


Goodnight Sweetheart Goodnight

by MysteryHack



Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Comfort, Cuddling & Snuggling, Fluff, Gen, Light Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-26
Updated: 2015-11-26
Packaged: 2018-05-03 10:41:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5287586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MysteryHack/pseuds/MysteryHack
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Basically MacCready is afraid of the dark, the Sole Survivor tries to help. Basically just what I would want to do if he was my companion. I think it could be better but I'm running on no sleep thanks to nightmares so I'm sorry!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Goodnight Sweetheart Goodnight

Now, to anyone in The Commonwealth, Robert Joseph MacCready was a sarcastic, unscrupulous, contract killer. To the Sole Survivor, he was nothing more than a lonely man haunted by his past. They reached this conclusion not long after recruiting him in Goodneighbor. He just had this way about him, these actions and looks that just screamed “save me”, and that was what they intended on doing...somehow. If he'd just open up a bit...

When MacCready thought his boss was asleep late at night, he would shift and thrash in his sleeping bag, attempting to wiggle the anxiety out of his body. He hated staying still, staying still is what ruined his life a few years ago. Staying still is what gives raiders and feral ghouls the time to stumble upon your camp and rip you to shreds. 

The Sole Survivor, noticed it was the worst for their conscript when it was a particularly cloudy or foggy night, blotting out the moon and the eerie glow that the Earth seemed to carry now. It was on nights like that, when the former gunner thought the vault dweller was out cold that he would pull the toy soldier Lucy gave him, and a piece of glowing fungus out of a special pocket in his pack. 

He would lie there, as still as he could holding both close to his chest. Somehow that little weight in his hands and the dim light that the fungus produced help calm him. If he could see at least one hand in front of him, he could see figures walking around him. It was on a night like this that his boss happened to open their eyes, waking to see him awash in a weak green light. The glow accentuated the sharp point of his nose and the deep hollows carved under his eyes. He was handsome, that they couldn't deny. 

Once The Sole Survivor's eyes adjusted more, they saw that MacCready was shaking slightly his mouth moving every so often, like he was having a conversation with someone unseen. He needed someone it was obvious in Goodneighbor, and it was more obvious now. Slowly, so as not to spook him more than he already was The Sole Survivor crawled out of their pack and crawled over to his side of the room. 

“Mac, what's going on?” They asked gently touching him on the shoulder. It was the lightest of touches, but it was enough to ease some of the tension in his body. The shaking stopped immediately.

“Nothing.” He answered, voice hard. MacCready had been so focused on trying to sound tough that he hadn't noticed that the hand on his shoulder was gently stroking his arm in a soothing way. It was so nice to have someone there with him in that moment that he failed to push the hand away or move himself. 

“Come one Mac, I know you better than that. What is it, afraid of raiders? We're in a pretty safe spot here so I wouldn't worry about it too much” His boss broke the silence between them, the hand more sure now, no longer worried about overstepping boundaries. 

He sighed a long suffering sigh, “No Boss. I'm not afraid of raiders. I'm...well..you see...afraid of the...dark.” He curled in on himself slightly, waiting for the inevitable laugh. He opened one of his eyes when that laugh didn't come.

“Afraid of the dark,” His partner echoed, “That explains the fungus. Do you want to talk about it?” 

MacCready shook his head now thoroughly enjoying the solid weight of the hand tracing patterns in his arm and neck. It was a small gesture, but it was appreciated beyond words. They were silent for a time, enjoying the stillness. “Tell me about you. What you were like before the war.” 

His partner held their breath for a moment before nodding. “Alright, yeah. I will. Just let me grab my sleeping bag.” Just as they shifted to walk across the old house's living room, MacCready grabbed at the hand leaving his shoulder, a needy noise making its way out of his mouth. 

“Please.” He whispered. 

The hand was immediately back on his arm, squeezing gently. He opened his bedding up, inviting them inside. With a bit of shifting, the two were able to make it work, with the general of the Minutemen at his back, and the toy soldier in his arms MacCready found himself all but melting into the floorboards. Arms wrapped cautiously around his midsection, as if asking if a line had been crossed. His own hands met theirs and pulled them more firmly around him, interlocking the pair's fingers. 

“Okay well now that we're comfortable,” the vault dweller began, “I was born and raised right here in Boston. I grew up like any kid would have at the time...nothing special there. It was different, obviously. No war, only the threat. Which means I got to go to the library or a baseball game without carrying a pocket full of shells.” 

MacCready closed his eyes and relaxed into the warmth at his back. He tried to picture his boss young, excited and fearless to wander the city. He tried to imagine himself right there with them instead of hiding out in a cave wasting his childhood as a mayor of a dying town of children. 

When he realized it was quiet again he spoke, “That sounds too good to be true, what did you do for fun back then? I imagine our childhoods were crazy different.” 

“Well, we'd get nuka colas and hang out on playgrounds in the summer, or go to the coast and put our feet in the water,” they began, running their hands soothingly through the man's hair, “In the winter time we'd all throw snow balls at the Mr. Handi bots. It was a really great time to be a kid.” 

“Yeah, I can imagine. No Mirelurks in the water. No Super Mutants in the playgrounds,” he trailed off sighing as he pictured it all in his mind, “Definitely a different time. What do you miss the most, y'know other than your better half?” He asked tensing a bit at the mention of the dead spouse. He chalked it up to sleep deprivation making him careless.

“Well, I really miss hot showers. So hot it feels like you're boiling. There was something so relaxing about it. Of course I miss my other half, but this world isn't turning out to be as bad as I'd imagined when I first dragged myself out of that vault.” They answered.

That took MacCready by surprise, and he fought sleep long enough to ask what in the hell could be so great enough to make it so that losing everything to a nuclear bomb and 200 years wasn't as horrible as it sounded. “Hah showers what a thing to miss. But, I guess that does sound nice... And are you feeling alright, boss? What could you have possibly found to make you see any of this as enjoyable?”

The arms around his waist tightened and he felt a warm breath at the base of his neck, a nose nuzzling at the short hairs there. “This. You.” His companion whispered into his skin. 

A tenderness he hadn't felt in years swelled in his chest at that. He grabbed the toy soldier tighter before resolving to set it on the floor next to his head. He closed his eyes and nestled into his partner more, a sigh of content finding its way out of his mouth. And if the sharpshooter and the vault dweller slept deeply and entangled well into the afternoon the following day, that was no one's secret but their own.


End file.
